


seven for a secret, never to be told

by spacewitcher



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Spoilers, Thieves Guild Questline spoilers, it's me playing the game and reacting as maggie so like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23670643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacewitcher/pseuds/spacewitcher
Summary: The diary of a chaotic wood elf thief known as Maggie Magpie, following her journey post-Thieves Guild questline. It's mostly a fun writing exersice for me, and so I plan to update as I play through the game with Mags.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

_(Sketches of magpies fill the first page. One is holding a knife in its beak, another holds a golden necklace. One seems to be building a nest on Mercer Frey’s body.)_

Found this journal on a shipment ordered by Maven. It’s really very sparkly, so clearly she must’ve meant for me to help myself to it. Thank you Maves. Good timing for this little treasure to fall into my hands, too. My old journal got soaked when we almost drowned in ~~Irgnhand Irkthorn Igodhand~~ Irkngthand. Speaking of that shit hole, I get why Brynjolf is our face outward now. 

_(A drawing of Brynjolf, dressed up in Nightingale Gear, about to step on the face of a sleeping falmer.)_

“Brynjolf, I said, “I figured out why Nocturnal accepted your offer. She clearly wants to get into your pants. It’s a shame these falmer doesn’t get to see your handsome face, they’d lay down their sticks and stones and fall at your knees in a second.” He chuckled and said something about me being the greatest thief in history. BUt we are a good team. And I’ve come to realize a good team is important when looking for trinkets. 

_(A drawing of several people dressed in Thieves Guild armor, standing close together. Brynjolf is smiling, and holding his arms around Delvin and Vex. Delvin looks pleased, Vex less so. Rune pokes his head up between Brynjolf and Delvin. Tonilia stands on Vexs left side, with her hands confidently on her hips. Sapphire stands, a little bit behind Tonilia, but with a small smile on her face. Vipir sits on the ground before them, cross legged, smiling. On Delvins right side is Thrynn, with a frown, and his arms folded over his chest. Niruin is kissing his right cheek. Karliah is on his right, showing little emotion, merely a hint of a smile. The word “family” is written below, underscored several times.)_

* * *

**Sundas, 30th of Last seed**

Let it be known, that I, Maggie Magpie, Master of the Thieves Guild, and Nightingale, AM SO BORED. It’s back to business, down in the Ratways. Mercer = Dead. Nocturnals love and blessing = restored. New Thieves Guild Master = Me. It’s been a week since that jackass got his dues. First we had the grandest party you’d ever seen, dear diary. Sapphire REALLY came out of her shell.

_(Sapphire, dancing on a counter. Maggie and Rune are cheering her on in the background.)_

TONILIA EVEN FOUND DRINK THAT WASN’T BLACK BRIAR PISS(don’t tell Maves)It was a very, very, good two days. And then Mr. Business Brynjolf emerged. Apparently, he spent only one day partying. 

_(Brynjolf looking somber, holding an impossible amount of papers.)_

So I’ve spent five days cooped up, learning how to manage a Guild. I’M CRAWLING UP THE WALLS. (Not really, but hey Nocturnal, that’s an idea, huh??) Brynjolf had an excellent idea. He will manage the paperwork, and I’ll do the otherguildwork. I’m heading out to Whiterun, and then Markarth to do some odd jobs - while also scouting for bigger opportunities. 

  
  


**Morndas, 31st of Last Seed**

It’s time. Heading out at dawn to wander, again. Only this time I’ll have a home to come back to, and a family. To Whiterun now. 

_(A magpie leaves the nest, which is situated on a roof with full view of the Riften market square)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first piece of "published" writing, not counting all the times I've tried to commit to posting sims stories on tumblr. SO I'd like to dedicate it to my friends and soulmates Jade and Ania, who have inspired me and bolstered my own confidence in my creative abilities. Thank you <3


	2. Of Giants and Bandits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie goes on a journey, and spends more time with herself than she's become used to.

GIANTS? I took five steps out of Riften, caught a whiff of my own smell, realised it wasn’t only Riften stink. Planned to go into the lake when I heard a ROAR. and then a THUD. And then AAAA-EEEE-III. Finally, I thought. Some action. Well, let me tell you, dear diary. I got more action than I bargained for. But at least Malacath gave me a cool weapon. Bit unwieldy for me though. BUT it makes a very nice mantle piece for my hole house. 

_ (A drawing of Maggie trying, but failing, to lift Volendrung from the ground.)  _

Ugor - the orc who almost murdered me, instead of the GIANT ON THEIR DOORSTEP- decided to join up with me. She’s also heading for Whiterun. Yay, new friend!

_ (Ugor, frowning, while a magpie sits contently upon her head) _

SO…………………. The assassin who was sent for me accidentally gutted Urog while I was, uh, taking care of business. It was nice while it lasted, old friend. I’ll toast for you in Whiterun, Ugor. 

_ (On the next page is a very detailed portrait of Ugor, looking serious. Two swords cross in an X behind her, and thistles surround her, framing the drawing.)  _

I continued on, alone, to Whiterun. The sun is coming down, so I’m crashing at “Honningbrew” Meadery. Good to see they properly sealed off the cursed tunnels. Tomorrow it’s back to work. Hope there’s some pretty things. Night, night. 

* * *

**Middas, 2nd of Heartfire**

Roamed Whiterun during the day and scouted out the house. Rented a room, and then tried to enjoy the company. Except it seems nobody visits The Bannered Mare during the day time. Not a whole lot of useless drunks in Whiterun, then. Anyways. Cleared out the target house. Vex should be VERY happy. 

( _A drawing of Maggie taking a careful step, hauling a full bag out of a Whiterun house.)_

Now, to Markarth. I hate that place, something is off there. But Delvin has a lead on a big job there, and, well. The guild needs someone in our pocket everywhere, even in Markarth. Mercer ruined everything, and once again, I have to suffer in order to clean up his mess. I hope he is rotting in Evergloam. I’ll leave after I’ve had breakfast. Can’t sleep now, with the rush. 

**Evening**

Stopping to camp for the night. Feeling lonely and a little homesick. Silly. I’ve been alone before. 

_ (A drawing of Karliah smelling flowers. Brynjolf, mid-laughter, holding a mug of ale.) _

* * *

**Turdas, 3rd of Heartfire**

Looking at my last notes before sleep, they’re pretty gloomy. Did I forget to replace old rations, again?? Anyways. Should reach Markarth today. Last time I walked through the city gates, someone got murdered. Hope it doesn’t happen again. At least if it does, I hope they’re rich. 

… This Endon-character wants me to walk halfway back to Riften. Nocturnal give me strength not to punch this idiot merchant, making me his personal courier. Send a master thief to bring back a silver mold stolen by witless bandits? I 

WELL, WELL, WELL. Not so witless after all, provided a big haul!!!!!! 

_ (A magpie bathing in gold, gems, and various shiny trinkets.) _

Came back to Markarth past sundown. Not staying here one more moment than necessary. Waking the carriage driver and going to pay him whatever he asks. Want to get back to Riften NOW.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3


	3. A mask found, a mask revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie returns home, but the whims of fate brings her out soon again. Or perhaps it's just the whims of Maggie

**Fredas, 4th of Heartfire**

_(A drawing of Maggie curled up on a couch in the Ragged Flagon. She has a blanket around her, and she is nestling a cup.)_

  
  
  


* * *

**Loredas, 5th of Heartfire**

Meet a most curious individual at the Bee and Barb. Well, his proposition is very curious, at least. I was enjoying some people watching in my usual corner, when an imperial man walked up to my table. He sat down, without invitation and started blabbering.

“Maggie Magpie. You’ve made quite the name for yourself here in Riften, eh? You may call me Marcurio, and I have something that might interest you.” Well, he didn’t really offer what I hoped he would - he’s quite strapping - but certainly the next best thing. He is a mage, and through his studies at Winterhold he has uncovered the resting place of a dragon priest of old. The only problem - for him - is that by all accounts it is quite a protected grave. So he needs a protector for his scholarly pursuits. That’s where I come in. “If you know me by that name, you must know what motivates me. And it sure isn’t dusty old bones.” Said I. “This is the dragon cultists last bastion in Skyrim. I’d stake my whole scholarly career that there are unimaginable riches hidden there.” “Well, I can’t do much with that. I’d bet on your purse any day, though.”

“500?”

“500.” 

( _A drawing of Marcurio pointing at a map of a nord tomb that is placed on a table where drink and food have been shoved aside, his face is lit by candlelight, and he looks up with intense eyes.)_

  
  


I’ll tell you a secret, dear diary. I don’t doubt this pretty mage. This tomb, this Forelhost, I don’t doubt there’s gold to be made. But I’m not a tomb raider and certainly not a mercenary for hire!!!! But Marcurio seems hellbent on going, and it would be a shame for the Bee and Barb to lose such a nice decoration. I gotta go now, Marcurio will be waiting outside the gates.

Interesting developments. Me and Pretty Boy hiked up the mountain to Forelhost, where we found an Imperial Captain. Marcurio seemed to believe the location of the dragon cultists last bastion was a long lost secret, so we were both struck quite dumbfound. Captain Valmir seems to be here for the same endgoal as both of us. We’re taking a short break now, before going in. Valmir did not invite us to his campfire, so we had make our own. I don’t trust him. And why would the Imperial army want an old Mask? Don’t they have enough of those??

_(Sketches of draugr in various positions fill the outlines of the page.)_

We took down a real life, undead, fire spitting, smelly dragon priest. It took many hours to get to the bastard, but we did it. Oh and, turns out my hunch was right. As we came out, Valmir had put on a new disguise and trying to recruit a stormcloak to do what we just had done. Seems he thought us dead. And it seems he wanted us dead, so now _he_ is dead. On him he had an order to go to a place called Labyrinthian. Marcurio apparently knows the place, and so we will set off again after resting. He handled himself very well in there. For a mage. 

( _Marcurio stands before the dragon priest Rahgur, with fire burning in his open palm. Ready for combat.)_

We moved camp down the mountain, the stench of blood is kind of off putting. We will camp here and then leave tomorrow.

( _A drawing of Marcurio standing over a cooking pot.)_


End file.
